


Love is no Picnic

by grntaire



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Fluff, M/M, also enj likes his cucumbers on the side, and grantaire is the best boyfriend ever, in which enjolras is sad and grantaire just wants to help, picnic fluff is everyones fave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:37:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grntaire/pseuds/grntaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Combeferre and Enjolras get into arguments and Grantaire is left to help Enjolras smile again. That's what boyfriends are for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is no Picnic

“Here we are,” Grantaire smiled proudly as he drove into the vacant parking lot. Enjolras rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s attempt to cheer him up.

“R, what are we supposed to do at a park?” he asked in a near whiney tone. Enjolras did not enjoy being in places that were known to have children, he would much prefer being around those his own age, specifically his own friends.

“I know what you’re thinking, but just give it a shot,” Grantaire persuaded.

After a moment of silence in deep thought, Enjolras eventually gave in, “Fine.” Grantaire jumped out of the driver’s seat and sped around to the other side of the Ford Focus to open the door for Enjolras. “I don’t want to do this,” Enjolras informed him. Grantaire grinded his teeth in frustration at the lack of appreciation coming from his boyfriend while waiting for him to get out of the car. With a look of resentment, Enjolras finally picked himself up from the car chair and brought himself face to face with Grantaire and muttered in a low voice, “I suspect you won’t disappoint.”

 

            Enjolras had been in a foul mood ever since getting into an aggressive argument with Combeferre. It was to the point where no one could even recall where with disagreement originated. The two had just started bickering at one another one night as if they were an old married couple. Grantaire blamed the few drinks Combeferre had downed though Enjolras refused to believe it was anything other than lack of respect. As Enjolras’ boyfriend of seven months, Grantaire took it as his duty to try to cheer him up; so far this had proved to be unsuccessful.

 

            Grantaire placed a hand atop Enjolras’ tense shoulder and directed him to go wait for him somewhere in the field. Grantaire watched as the other strutted off with textbook posture. Though he appeared near furious, Grantaire couldn’t help but notice just how beautiful he looked when he tried to consume his anger or how cute it was when he growled at Grantaire making a cheesy joke as an attempt to brighten him up. It was moments like this, watching as Enjolras stood uncomfortably and irritated in the middle of an empty, nicely trimmed field with an expression of confusion as to what to do with himself, which made Grantaire realize how much he truly loved this boy.

 

            Laughing to himself, Grantaire grabbed a woven picnic basket along with a red and white checkered blanket from the trunk. Slamming it down, he turned to face Enjolras. “I’m coming!” he yelled excitedly as he began to sprint towards the spot in the field Enjolras had chosen. Once he arrived, Enjolras’ face grew even more confused than it had already been previous.

“A picnic?” he asked, questioning Grantaire’s method.

“Yeah,” Grantaire nodded, handing Enjolras the basket so he could lay down the blanket. The two sat down, cross legged across from one another. “I made your favorite,” Grantaire removed a sandwich on whole wheat bread containing lettuce, mayonnaise, cucumbers and one thin slice of ham and handed it to Enjolras.

“Is this supposed to cheer me up?” Enjolras sought for confirmation.

Grantaire looked into the sad blue eyes, “Well yeah,” he told him, disappointed.

Enjolras put down the sandwich and brought himself closer to Grantaire. “You do know I don’t like cucumbers on the sandwich, right? I like them on the side,” he said quietly, almost in a whisper.

“Oh,” Grantaire looked down into his lap, and mentally slapped himself for his mistake.

Slowly and carefully, Enjolras placed his finger tips on the bottom of Grantaire’s chin and brought his head up to look him straight in the eye. Without warning, Enjolras brought himself closer and gently kissed Grantaire’s soft lips that sat there so worrisome. “Wait so you _do_ like it? You mean you don’t mind that I brought you to a park that could potentially have kids running around recklessly? Or that I accidently put cucumbers on your sandwich instead of on the side? Or that I accidently insulted your favorite history book author on the drive up here? Or that my music was too lo-“

“R,” Enjolras interrupted, “all I care about is you. I hope you realize that this whole time I was never in a foul mood because of anything you did. In fact, the past week I’ve been happier than I’ve been in a long time. I love watching you stress over how to make me smile. The way you tap your hand on your thigh when you’re not quite sure if I’ll like your idea is the most kind and adorable thing. I’m sorry that I have been a downer lately, I really am, but I need you to stop worrying. Sometimes I’m going to get into disagreements with good friends and sometimes I’m going to get anxious about work assignments, but never doubt that I love you, or that what you’re doing for me isn’t perfect; because it is. You are perfect, Grantaire. I cannot express to you how much I appreciate the little things you do for me. At times I wish to pretend as if I am in a bad mood so I can see you try to make me feel better,” and with a pause for breath, he ended with a faint whisper, “thank you.”

And with that, Grantaire let a smile shine through and he grasped Enjolras' hand.  “I am glad to be at your service.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this months ago because it was 4am and probably a school night in which I was procrastinating math homework. Any mistakes are my own and also lack of sleep and too much chocolate.


End file.
